On The Outside

I’ve been writing about

what’s on the outside -

the blooms on the trees,

the unblown dandelions,

the sun’s rays reflecting off the

gentle pass of a tributary’s flowing stream

glistening off the surface like diamonds.

The bumble bee beside me.

I can hear his quiet buzz making it's way

with the purple wildflowers growing

next to me.

I’m careful to stay away.

 

Theatre of the Sky

Leftover dead vines twisted

around whatever remains

of the dead alabaster tree trunk

left hanging to dip into the

trickling stream.

A gentle current rippling

through many miles to join the river.

While above the moon and the sun are found in opposing sides

where for the duration both the opening

and closing of a performance

lays still in the theatre of the sky.

Do you ever think?

Did you blink?

Did you think?

There was no time for that you say?

You can say because

You didn’t blink.

You didn’t think.

But now that years have passed

through ages measured by

routines, moments of pleasure

 and of dreams.

Do you ever think about

the release of the trigger?

Reverberates

Too late now to return that skipped

rock to the shore.

It reverberates in the murky water

circling out over

and over until it’s memory is left -

Faint.